A Different Kind of Innocence
by Vyctori
Summary: Sequel to Blaze. Sheba x Felix. Travelling together on their quest brings Sheba and Felix close to each other. Afterwards, when Sheba searches for who she is, Felix discovers there is a different kind of innocence....
1. A Shift in Plans

A Different Kind of Innocence

By: V.S. Windheart

Well, here I am! Back again with a brand-new fic! ^_^ Before I launch into it, I have a LOT to say, so bear with me.

First, to my new readers: 

Go read "Blaze." This fic will make a lot more sense if you do that first.

And to my old friends: 

^___^ I'm happy to be back with something other than a one-shot for once! I have good news and bad news for you. The good news is, the excellent Empress Dotdotdot has very kindly agreed to become my beta reader, so this fic should be top quality!

The bad news is, it's not going to be updated _nearly_ as often as "Blaze." Why? It's a combination of several factors. First, the beta-reading process takes a LOT of time. I have to write the chapter, proofread it several times, send it to Dotdotdot-chan, have her read it over, and send it back to me. Then I'll make the changes, proofread it AGAIN, and e-mail it to her. She'll then proofread it AGAIN, make any last suggestions, and give it back. Then I make any last-minute changes, answer any reviews, and post it!

As well, both Dotdotdot-chan and I are very busy people. Very, verrry busy. . . . X_X And with "Blaze," I had half-finished the fic before I had even published so much of a word on the site. Here . . . besides this chapter, I've Chapter Two half-written. I kind of slacked off in the last few months, and it caught up.

My final excuses are that a) I'm writing a full fic as a Christmas present and b) I need to submit a one-shot to Vilya's One-Shot Panoply before January 1, which is a heck of a lot sooner than you might imagine.

So there you have it! I've only written a little in this, and already I'm enjoying it very much. Hopefully I'll be able to manage at least one update every couple of weeks, and maybe even less, depending on Dotdotdot-chan's and my schedules.

Oh, I almost forgot! I've decided that since my plugs section doesn't really get read, every chapter, I'll recommend either one fic or two one-shots. It's up to you if you read them, but since I only recommend top-notch fics, it'd probably be in your best interests if you did. ^_~ The plug of the update is:

"The Lighter Side of Darkness," by Empress Dotdotdot. And this isn't to suck up to her for being a great beta reader, either! ^_^ It's the events of Golden Sun through Felix's eyes, including a positive spin on Saturos and Menardi ( ^_^ ). Angsty, though, just to warn you.

Finally, I'd like to dedicate this fic to my Weird Sister, Dotdotdot-chan. You're one of the truest friends I have--thank you.

. . .

And now the fic!

~ * * * ~

Felix stared down in horror as Sheba's grip on the lighthouse edge weakened. He struggled to pull her up to him. He _needed_ to lean forward to pull her up, but couldn't--he would unbalance and both would fall if he did so. 

Sheba's eyes suddenly widened; her fingers slipped imperceptibly. "Felix . . . thank you for everything. I--" Then she was gone, hurtling down towards the ocean that would claim her forever. 

"_SHEBA!_" Felix screamed as she slipped out of his grasp. He didn't hesitate even for a single second. He dove, stretching out his fingers, willing himself to fall faster, to reach her before she hit the water.

He didn't make it. A large wave swelled, swallowing Sheba as he watched. The wind whipped his hair straight back, made his eyes tear. He blinked, shook his head, and then held his breath as he hit the water with incredible force.

The shock of the freezing water almost made him gasp and lose his air supply, but he suppressed the urge and then searched for Sheba. There she was, below him, bogged down by her clothing and thrashing uselessly.

She can't swim, Felix realized in cold horror.

He thrust his arms out and away from himself, kicking steadily with his legs as he descended into the lightless depths of the sea.

Hurry, hurry, his mind urged him.

Sheba's struggles were weaker now; she was passing out from a lack of oxygen. Felix gave one more push and then his long fingers locked around her wrist. 

He rocketed to the surface with a gasp, supporting the now-unconscious Sheba. He coughed and tried to rub the salt water out of his eyes with one hand. Already the current had carried them so far from shore that land was just a speck on the horizon. He treaded water for a moment. 

What to do? he asked himself. He got no answer.

Sheba . . . is she still breathing? he wondered in panic. He listened carefully for the sound that meant life for her . . . and him.

If Sheba dies, then I don't think--

"_Felix!_"

Felix blinked twice. The tempestuous ocean vanished and Jenna's irked face came into focus, not even a hand-span away. He wasn't swimming any more, saving Sheba. He was in Daila's inn, and Jenna looked ready to punch him. 

He cleared his throat nervously. "Ah . . . yes, Jenna?"

"Sheesh, Felix! You must've been seriously spaced out." Jenna settled back into her chair. "I was trying to tell you that the innkeeper's wife said that the food's almost ready. I must have called your name at _least_ half a dozen times!"

Felix shook his head to get rid of the last traces of the memory. "Sorry, Jenna. I was thinking."

"Well, next time, could you do your thinking when other people aren't around?" she demanded. 

"Yeah, it's rude to ignore others that way, Felix," Sheba chimed in. 

"Oh, look, our meal's here," Kraden quickly announced, trying to halt the developing argument. 

The innkeeper plunked four plates of some unidentified mess on the table and left quickly, perhaps trying to avoid the inevitable complaints at the unappetizing meal.

Sheba used her fork to lift a stringy green . . . something . . . out of the heap. "Gross!" She wrinkled her small nose. "Are we supposed to _eat_ this or thatch a house with it?"

"I'm sure it's not _that_ bad." Felix regarded it dubiously. "I mean, it's just like the cooking in Prox. We didn't have much to work with since we were so far north, so we kind of had to make do with what we could find." He took a small bite and made a face. "Maybe I'm out of practice," he managed in a strangled voice.

"Well, it can't be any worse than the night Menardi took it upon herself to cook a meal." Jenna tried to look on the bright side. She tasted the food and nearly spat it out again. "Whoa . . . Menardi has competition."

"I don't see why everyone's so upset. It's not too bad." Kraden chewed pensively.

" . . . You're joking, right?" Sheba eventually inquired as they stared at him.

"No! I'm completely serious!" Kraden protested.

"He isn't human!" Jenna flung up her arms in mock terror. 

"I already knew that," Sheba kidded.

"Ladies and gentlemen!" The innkeeper shouted over the generally discontented mumblings. "I would now like to present our dinner theatre! A traditional dance of Daila, performed by two most talented women! So turn your attention to the front, sit back, and watch the show." 

"Anything's better than eating this junk," Jenna muttered, abandoning her meal. "Hmm . . . maybe not," she amended as the routine got underway.

As far as Felix could tell, the dance involved a great deal of twirling on the spot and hopping in the air. However, the two women were spectacularly uncoordinated, and were completely out of sync with each other. The first one spun herself dizzy and had to sit down. The second--the innkeeper's wife--bravely tried to keep going, but landed badly coming down from one of the jumps. She ended up twisting her ankle, thereby putting herself out of commission for the evening. The whole offering earned a mere smattering of clapping from the politer members of the audience.

"Uh, if there's anyone who could possibly provide us with a little entertainment? Please?" the innkeeper begged, as the crowd seemed to be becoming mutinous. "Supper's on the house if you do!"

Sheba grabbed Jenna's wrist and hauled it in the air. 

"What? No! Sheba!" Jenna broke free of the fourteen-year-old's grasp and tried to pretend she didn't exist.

"Do you really want to _pay_ for the thatching we've been eating?" Sheba hissed. She batted her eyelashes innocently. "I mean, it'll be less money for the _important_ things in life, like clothes and cosmetics . . . ." She seemed to be struggling to keep a smirk from her face.

Before Jenna could respond, the innkeeper cried out, "And the redhead from the corner table volunteers! _Thank you!_" His relief was unnerving.

With a fearsome glare at Sheba--who was now openly grinning--Jenna rose from her seat and pushed her way to the front. 

"And what's your name, miss?" the harassed host queried.

"Jenna." The Mars Adept's face was the colour of her element.

"What are you going to do to entertain us?" It's like I'm ripping each individual syllable from her throat, the man mused gloomily. How good could she possibly be?

"I'm going to sing. This is something a couple of friends of mine wrote." With that curt introduction, Jenna's beautiful voice slid into the smooth melody that Saturos had written upon visiting Imil. Sheba had recently begun composing words to fit the Proxian's songs. This one spoke of the peace and serenity of the village, and the crisp beauty of the north, which the Laliveran had learned from descriptions from her travelling companions. 

When the last gorgeous note escaped Jenna's lips, there was a brief silence, followed by a huge burst of applause. Cries of "more!" and "wonderful!" could be heard from all over the room.

"Fabulous, Jenna! Please sing us something else!" The look on the innkeeper's face indicated that it was an order and not a request.

Jenna scowled again at the giggling Sheba, who was safely tucked away in her corner. She was going to get her for this . . . . 

* * *

"All right, everyone. Here's what I think we should do," Felix began.

Later that evening, once the meal was over and the sun had set, Felix had requested that everyone meet in the room he shared with Kraden. He had been thinking long and hard about what they should do next, and wanted to lay out his plans in front of everyone.

"You remember that Menardi and Saturos had said that if we were ever separated, we would try to meet up at the next lighthouse, right?" He received nods of agreement. "Well, I think we should probably wait here a couple of weeks, just in case. I'm sure that they'll catch up quite quickly."

"Do you think they won the battle?" Sheba queried.

Felix's face grew sad. "I certainly hope so. Very few people have the ability to defeat them. I would have said that Isaac was not one of them, except for what happened on top of Mercury Lighthouse." He tried to force himself to be cheerful. "But I'm sure Menardi and Saturos will be joining us quite shortly.

"We do have one problem, though."

"What?" Jenna asked with suspicion.

"Money," Felix answered succinctly. "Remember how Saturos looked after our funds, since he had the best head for numbers? I've only got my small stock of emergency money. I think we had better pool our coins for now. Also, we all need to upgrade our weapons and armour. Now that our three best fighters are missing for the time being, it's up to us to defend ourselves--something I hadn't planned on." 

"Wonderful." Jenna dug around in her travelling pack and came up with a handful of coins. She dropped them into Felix's lap. "Well, here's all that I've got."

Sheba and Kraden also turned over their money. When Felix had counted everything, it turned out that they had not quite two hundred and fifty coins.

Sheba made a face. "Yeah, we're going to survive _really_ long on two hundred coins between four people."

"Well, at least we're eating for free." Kraden attempted to be positive.

"Aw, no! I'm not going to sing for our suppers and that's final!" Jenna folded her arms for emphasis. 

"_Please_, Jenna?" Felix wheedled. He gave her his best big-brother smile. "It would be a really big help."

"Uh-uh."

"Jenna . . ." Sheba started to complain.

"We'll give you the best of the food if you do . . ." Felix promised.

"Hey, Felix! I never said--" Sheba began.

Felix gave her a quick don't-spoil-this-_please_ look and Sheba quieted.

"Well, _okay_, but you had all better appreciate this," Jenna threatened them. "Anyway, I'm going to bed. Coming, Sheba?"

"Uh-huh. Goodnight, Felix, Kraden."

"Goodnight," the two chorused.

Once the girls had left, Felix made his preparations and climbed into bed, his mind occupied with a dilemma.

If I buy supplies, I can paint pictures and sell them for money, he thought. But I need money to buy paints, but I need to paint pictures to get money, but . . . argh! He clapped a hand over his eyes and groaned. Maybe things would look clearer in the morning.

* * *

In the end, their money only lasted long enough to stay for a week. They could have remained in Daila longer, but while Jenna's singing _did_ provide them with free meals, the cost of renting a room still strained their funds, and they had used their coins to buy better weapons and armour. Because of this, they were forced to move along. 

As they set out from the small village, Felix commented, "We should probably travel a little slowly. I'm not sure how far south Daila is from Lalivero, but it stands to reason that Saturos and Menardi would have trouble making the crossing in only a week." 

"Yeah," Jenna agreed. "What a pain, though. I want to get to the last two lighthouses as soon as possible, because I am sick to death of camping all the time!" 

"It can't be helped, though," Sheba remarked, walking faster to catch up to them. "And it looks like we're going to be camping a lot more, unless we can find some monsters and take their coins from them." She frowned. "Incidentally, what are monsters doing with money, anyway? It's not like they can exactly walk into a shop and buy whatever they want." 

"Maybe they like the shininess of the gold," Felix suggested, and shrugged. "Oh well. Just one of the mysteries of life." 

* * *

As the next few weeks passed, certain terrible, doubting thoughts came to Felix, though he tried to push them out of his mind. However, one evening, when he was on the second shift of the night watch, the ideas invaded and forced him to confront what he had feared the most.

"They can't be . . . dead," he whispered, sitting on a fallen log. "They were the best fighters in all of Prox. _Nobody_ could beat them." 

Except Isaac, his mind taunted. 

"But Isaac wouldn't kill them--would he?" However, the answer was there. Isaac passionately loved Vale and would do _anything_ to protect his home.

"But . . . murder?"

Yes. If he felt the need, then Isaac may very well have killed them in what he mistakenly thought of as his quest to save the world. He would think of their slaying as justified for his noble cause, and not the cold-blooded murder it actually was.

"No . . . _no!_" Felix covered his face with his hands. Against his will, smiling images of Saturos and Menardi appeared in his head. They had been such kind, caring people, so very much in love. They had given him a home when he had thought he had been orphaned. And now . . .

They were gone. Gone for all eternity. 

Felix began to weep. At first, he felt shame at crying as a grown man, but then he remembered the first night he had met Menardi and Saturos, after they had saved his life. Their grief had been open and free at the loss of their closest friends.

The thought of the two only made him sob that much harder. He stuffed a gloved fist in his mouth to stifle the sound, not wanting to disturb the others. He didn't want to share his terrible knowledge with them. 

"Felix?" Sheba's voice softly inquired, arriving in the clearing in which he sat.

Felix rubbed at his eyes, tried to slow his tears. Yet they stubbornly refused to stop. "Sheba, you should be back in bed." His voice was low and pained.

Instead, Sheba sat next to him on the log. "What's the matter, Felix? Is everything all right?"

I don't want to burden her, he thought. "Everything's fine. I was just being silly."

"Felix, you're never silly," she assured him pragmatically. "You wouldn't get this upset unless something was seriously wrong. Tell me. If it's a secret, I won't say a word to anyone else."

Felix stared down at his hands, which were entwined in his lap. He didn't want to tell her, but he knew he had to say something at some point in the future. It was useless concealing such things from Sheba--she would only use Mind Read on him if he still refused to fill her in.

"Sheba . . . I think--I think Saturos and Menardi are . . . dead." His voice cracked on the last word.

"No . . ." Sheba stared at him, green eyes wide. "You're mistaken, aren't you? This can't be true!"

"I wish I was wrong, but I've been thinking this over. If they were alive, they would have found us by now. It's been too long. Isaac . . . I've known him for all his life. If he thought there was a great need, he would kill. And I guess . . . he saw reason to . . . do so."

Sheba watched Felix's face for signs that he was anything but serious. None came. His face was still and heavy, filled completely with a nearly unbearable sadness.

Her own face took on a brittle, cold cast. Without a word, she rose and returned to her bed, waiting for tears to come. But her tears remained frozen at the corners of her eyes, like ice.

She didn't sleep for the rest of the night.

~ * * * ~

Vyctori: Well, there we go! Another fic started.

Menardi: At least you actually _finish_ your fics; I'll say that about you.

Vyctori: Menardi actually said something nice about me? This calls for a celebration! Break out the chocolate!

Menardi: I think you're exaggerating about the need for a celebration, but I never say no to chocolate.

*doorbell rings*

Vyctori: Aw, drat. Menardi, could you get that while I find the chocolate?

Menardi: Get it yourself; I'm not a doorperson!

Vyctori: -_-;; Fine. *goes to next room and opens door*

Alex: Greetings. I am your new muse. *enters*

Vyctori: O_O {!!!) NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO! *shoves Alex out the door and then leans against it* Orororororo. . . .

Menardi: *mouth full of chocolate* 'oowuhi? *swallows* Who was it?

Vyctori: *beginning to hyperventilate* It was--

Alex: --I. I informed Vyctori that I am her new muse.

Vyctori: HOW DID YOU GET IN HERE?!

Alex: *smirks* Teleport is a very useful ability.

Vyctori: NONONONONONONONO!!! *shoves Alex out the door and slams door shut*

Alex: *teleports back inside*

Vyctori: *shoves Alex out the door and slams door shut*

Alex: *teleports back inside*

Vyctori: *shoves Alex out the door and slams door shut* ...

Menardi: *watching and eating chocolate* Well, this is amusing.

*half an hour later*

Alex: *teleports back inside*

Vyctori: *shoves Alex out the door and slams door shut*

Menardi: *has finished all the chocolate in the house* You know, I think you're just going to have to accept that you're stuck with him.

Vyctori: *still going strong* No! I refuse to have my least favourite Golden Sun character as a muse!

Alex: *ditto* What have I ever done to you to merit such an unflattering opinion?

Vyctori: *stops and stares* You insulted four of my five favourite characters in the Champa scene, used _everyone_ in the entire game, tried to take over the world with Alchemy, and were and are a general slimeball!

Menardi: *ironically* Is that all?

Alex: Perhaps if I explained my reason for being here, you may be more open towards my presence.

Vyctori: *snorts*

Alex: *raises eyebrows* I was hired by a number of readers who are most displeased with your recent laxity in updates. You used to post a chapter of whichever fanfiction upon which you were working every three to four days. Now you update only once a week, if that. We feel that you have become immune to Menardi's most crude method--

Menardi: *frowning menacingly* Hey, watch your mouth, Alchemy boy.

Alex: *ignoring her* --of, shall I say, _encouraging_ you to update. Therefore, all parties involved felt that you needed a new muse to aid you in returning to your previous update schedule.

Vyctori: And they sent me YOU? Boy, they must have been mad!

Alex: So I am here to stay. Where exactly am I to sleep, may I inquire?

Vyctori: The streets. *sighs* I've got one last guest room remaining. Any more muses, and we'll have to start doubling up.

Menardi: *brightens* I wonder if I can encourage Saturos to. . . .

Vyctori: NO.

Menardi: ## Well, now that you've seen this chapter, you had better review it. I'm in a particularly foul mood, and I've just had all the chocolate in the house. . . . 

Vyctori: MENARDI!

Menardi: . . . so you had best do what I say. Do I even need to add the 'or else'?

Vyctori: And to those readers who hired Alex, I have a personal message to give: You are _so_ doomed. I mean it.


	2. Appearances

I'm baaaack! Told you this would take a long time to be updated! ^^;; I've only recently come out of a two-month period of writer's block, and like I mentioned before, beta reading is a LONG process. However, I think this chapter's worth the long time it takes to get things just so.

The reviewers. . . .

Shadow-Dragon5 (and Satty and Sieg): Hey, you were the first to review! ^_^ I'm not surprised you aren't guilty of hiring Alex—who seems to be falling down a bit in the encouragement department. You _are_ a hands-on kind of person . . . !

I usually leave the humour stuff to Yoshimi, since he does it so very well, but lately, I've found myself writing a bit more of it. ^_^ Don't know why, either!

I gave Dotdotdot-chan a run for her money with _angst?_ O_O Wow, I didn't think the scene was THAT good! Thanks a lot!

Kevin C: Ooh, your Djinni knocked hair dye into Alex's precious locks? ^____^ Have a cookie, Flower! *gives chocolate chip cookie* I'm really glad you think the waiting paid off . . . hopefully, you'll think the same after the VERY long wait for this chapter! ^^;;;

Yoshimi Takahashi: That was one heck of a long review! 0_o;; And so you actually admit to hiring Alex, huh? Tsk, I shall have to think of a suitable punishment for you. . . . ^_~ I hope you've managed to knock a few people off the list of those who want to kill you! I've resigned myself to Alex (he makes a good torture target), so at least I don't _currently_ wish to kill you!

Karst really does scare you, doesn't she? And she's even my favourite character, too. I wonder whether you'd survive if you actually DID get her as a muse . . . !

Zeratul: Thanks! I sure hope this lives up to your expectations!

EchoKazul: Wow, that was so long ago that I totally forgot why you were mad at him! Heh, I wonder if I should be bringing this up? ^^;; I know the rest of your review got cut off, but I kinda ALSO forget what else you said. Ah well.

Flaming Tigress Mage:

Menardi: *casts Pyroclasm* ^_^

Alex: *casts Douse on himself* *tiredly* She has been doing that almost constantly, thank you oh so much.

Vyctori: ^_^ This fic is basically "Blaze" rewound to about the middle, only it's through Felix and Sheba's eyes. The story will continue normally and a little past where "Blaze" finished, tying up some loose ends in the process. You know, I think you're the only person to read stories in all three sections I write for! How about that? ^_^

Dark Nemesis 7: Thank you!

The Faction's Lord: Oh, come off it, TFL! We all know you're actually a rabid Lighthouseshipper, only you're too stubborn to admit it! ^_~ Just kidding. I really appreciate you reading this. Sadly, since it took more than a month for me to update this, Alex now has his powers back. Not that he'd ever _do_ anything, what with Menardi being around and all (she makes a brilliant bodyguard, provided you don't mind getting fried now and again).

Menardi: *reading over shoulder* Hah! I could take you in a fight any day! Name the time and place right now and I'll be ready for you! *starts polishing scythe*

Vyctori: Err. . . . Don't kill each other, please!

whitetiger777: I honestly don't understand why Windshipping's so popular, when there's _SO_ much more evidence for Lighthouseshipping! -_-;; I think this romance probably IS going to drag out a bit . . . these two are rather bashful. ^_^ 

You're more than welcome to drop off little Felix-chan anytime! ^_^ Dotdotdot-chan and I, both being rabid Felly fanatics, will probably end up fighting over his custody!

Oh, Menardi says thank you very much for the kind offer. Then she sort of smirked and left the house and was heading . . . somewhere. Do you have any idea what she was talking about? Because it's always bad news for someone when she gets that look on her face. . . . 

Semaj Fallen: Well . . . it is and it isn't post-Blaze. It will be . . . eventually. Right now, I'm doing a bit of a recap. *points at Flaming Tigress Mage's response*

moonjump05: According to my beta, a lot of people who watch a decent amount of anime (like me) tend to have trouble doing proper descriptions. Right now, she's having me work on that. ^^;; More description will come, once I get better at it!

Lighthouseshipper!: You know, you probably shouldn't have mentioned about Felix dying in that fic . . . 'tis something of a spoiler, I could imagine! I'm not much for R-rated fics, usually, especially if they're going to be angsty, but thanks for the suggestion! And Windshipping is unfortunately much too common. *sighs* Well, I'm doing my part to rectify that, anyway. . . .

****

WOW! Twelve reviews this chapter! That's the most I've _ever_ received for a Golden Sun fic! Thanks so much, everyone!

Oh, fic recommendation! Let's see . . . today I'm going to recommend "Reincarnation," by Rallalon. It's a positively brilliant fic that is _completely_ under-appreciated. PG rating, Proxshipping, Lighthouseshipping—what more could anyone want? ^_^

Well, I hope this chapter is worth the wait! Enjoy it!

~ * * * ~ 

Though the two tried hard, they could not conceal the state of their emotions from Jenna. She pestered them so frequently that Felix was forced to make an announcement one evening. After imparting the news, Jenna sat back, stunned.

"You're kidding me, right, Felix?" she demanded and pleaded at the same time. "They're going to jump out at any minute now and laugh at how you fooled us, aren't they? Felix . . . !"

But the despairing look on her brother's face was all she needed to see to confirm his words.

"No. . . ." she whispered. Then she rose unsteadily and walked into the nearby forest, completely silent. 

Sheba got to her feet and tried to follow, but Felix shook his head.

"She needs time alone now," he explained, "to deal with her grief privately. She'd be embarrassed if someone witnessed her pain."

"I never would have believed that those two bright young people would be . . . gone." Kraden removed his spectacles and rubbed at his eyes. "If I had thought something like this would happen, I would have held our friendship closer, as something more dear. But. . . ."

"You couldn't know," Felix broke in, trying to clamp down on his own sorrow. "Just be glad that we knew them for the time we did. I think a good way to live in general would be to treat your friends like each day would be the last day you'd . . . see them. . . ." His control broke as his face twisted from memories he did not want to relive. He had been so _happy_. . . . Why . . . ?  "Excuse me." And he, too, stood up and disappeared into the woods, trying to leave his sadness behind and failing completely.

* * *

Eventually, the group relegated their loss to their darkest corners and moved on, both emotionally and physically. After several weeks of travel, they arrived at the gates of a moderate-sized town.

"Where are we?" Sheba wanted to know as they approached.

Felix squinted at the now much-battered map, still striding forward. "It says this is Madra, although it's kind of hard to tell."

"Hey, uh, Felix, you'd better look up, you know," Jenna commented.

"Huh?" Felix raised his brown-haired head from studying the map . . . to find himself face to hard face with a town guard. The man was pointing a spear straight at him; it was a mere handspan from his stomach. Had he progressed much farther, the consequences would not have been pleasant.

"You lot! State your names and place of birth!" he barked.

A peeved look settled itself on Jenna's features, one that Felix recognized only too well.

"Just go along with him," he muttered to her rapidly, trying to avert a scene. "I am Felix of Vale, recently of Prox," he spoke aloud to the guard and his partner.

"Sheba of—Lalivero." Her brief hesitation had to do with the fact that Sheba still did not know the location at which she came into the world.

"I am Kraden of Tolbi."

"And I'm Jenna of Vale," the redhead finished curtly. "What's going on, that travellers can't enter a town freely?"

"We've just recently sustained an attack by the Champan pirates," the second sentry explained. "We managed to capture one of them—he's in jail, awaiting trial—but we're on the alert for any more suspicious characters." He eyed them carefully and walked around the group a time or two.

"'Suspicious characters.'" Jenna snorted. "Guess who's been listening to one too many low-quality mystery tales from the local bard?"

"Now, Jenna," Felix reprimanded her.

"Whatever." His sister remained unconcerned.

"They seem to be all right," the man announced with a firm nod. He stood aside—the other man did the same. "You may enter."

After the group of four had left the pair behind, Sheba exclaimed disgustedly, "We could've been a scouting party for the Champans disguised as innocent wanderers, for all they knew! No _wonder_ the Madrans found themselves in trouble if they judge people by appearances like this!"

Felix thought of all the times that his foster parents had been shunned because of their unusual appearance, and the numerous problems it had caused on their journey. "I have to agree with you there, Sheba. Sometimes, people just don't make sense."

"So, where should we go first?" Jenna inquired, breaking through his thoughts. "The inn or the weapons shop? Or should we just explore?"

"I—have someplace I need to go . . . on my own." Felix didn't look at any of his friends. "You decide. I'll meet you in front of the inn, later."

Sheba shot him an odd expression, not quite sure what was on his mind. "Well . . . all right. So long as we find out what you were doing afterwards." 

"Fine." Felix walked off, the pleasantness of the day fading away with every step he took.

It took a little asking around, but finally, he found what he was looking for—the local tailor. Entering the small and dusty but sunlit shop, Felix waited around until a tall young man came to the forefront of the store.

"Is there anything I can do to help you?" he asked. The tailor seemed the sort of person who would honestly like to know the answer to the question—with him, it wasn't just an empty phrase.

It was an agreeable change, Felix thought. "I would like to purchase a strip of red cloth, long enough to bind around my arm."

"Well, sure." The man vanished into the back before returning with a bolt of the material. He scrutinized Felix's arms before cutting a strip away. "Would you mind me asking what it's for? It's a rather unusual request, you know."

Felix gazed down at the counter, examining the splintering wood in an attempt to hold back the surge of sorrow. "Where I come from, red is the colour of mourning. I'm a traveller, so I can't afford to wear anything more than an armband." 

"Oh, I'm so sorry." The tailor gave him a helpless look. "Were you very close to them? I hope their death wasn't difficult or painful."

"Yes, I was very close to them." Felix swallowed with difficulty. "They were my foster parents. They were murdered."

Shocked, the man held out the armband in silence. Felix carefully bound it around his left upper arm. 

"How much?" Felix asked softly.

"Nothing."

"No, please, I can't take your charity. . . ." 

"I can't make you pay for that." The tailor held up his hands. "To be twice orphaned and to have your foster parents murdered. . . . I don't know who you are, but you need all the kindness you can get." 

"Thank you." Felix left the shop, eyes burning once again. "The sun is so _bright_ here," he muttered for the benefit of the citizens of Madra. He didn't want them to think he, an eighteen-year-old man, was crying. 

. . . When you are an adult, crying is seen as a sign of weakness. And yet, even the strongest cry on occasion. When the one person who must prevent the destruction of the world is set against many, personal grief is supposed to have little to do with matters. The hero is supposed to be strong publicly, and save sorrow for quiet times. Such a very difficult thing to do. . . .

* * *

When he arrived at the inn, none of his travelling group was waiting, so he entered and booked two rooms with the small amount of money they had made on their journey. Afterwards, he went and found everyone. Jenna and Sheba were examining the weapon display, while Kraden was discovered to be asking a native the way to the library.

"Is there any place you haven't been, yet?" Felix wanted to know.

"Um, I don't think so—wait, we forgot the jail!" Jenna remembered.

"Why would we go there?" Sheba made a face. "Prisons are dank, filthy, and generally disgusting."

Felix shrugged. "Well, we might learn something worth knowing."

"Yeah, like more four-letter words from the prisoners," Sheba muttered.

"Sheba! You know what I'm talking about." Felix sighed.

"Aw, don't mind Sheba. She's just exhibiting her gutter mind." Jenna made a flapping motion with her hand as the group started to drift towards the solid stone building.

"I am _not!_"

It took only a short amount of time to arrive at the prison. Once Felix's eyes adjusted to the dim light, he noticed that, out of the two cells, only one was occupied. A tall, strong, blue-haired man stood very rigidly with his back to the iron-barred door, trying his hardest to ignore the short man who was shouting at him and the guard posted at his cell.

"Admit it! You're one of the Champa, aren't you, Piers? Speak, or let your silence condemn you!" the man yelled at him.

Piers answered in a voice that was of medium depth of tone. It was an expressive voice, right now sounding full of pain. "I told you already . . . I'm not a Champa."

"Then where did you come from?" his inquisitor sneered.

"The heart of the Eastern Sea . . . . If I told you where, you'd never believe me."

"What's going on?" Felix whispered to his sister as the interrogation continued.

"Madra recently sustained a raid from the Champa, a group of pirates," she explained. "I heard they found Piers unconscious in a boat right after the tidal wave struck, and in a _wonderful_ demonstration of the concept of 'innocent until proven guilty,' stuck him in here." Jenna's words were positively dripping with sarcasm. "Sure, there's a chance that he's guilty, but that's still no excuse for what they did to him!" 

"I don't want your sympathy, freak! I want you to get angry for me!" the man bellowed suddenly, interrupting their conversation. He gritted his teeth together and in his wrath, kicked dirt towards Piers.

"Stop, please . . . ." Piers implored as the dirt swirled around his legs. "Even my patience has limits."

Felix felt as though Piers was telling the truth. He seems to be at the end of his self-control, he thought. The blue-haired man's fists were clenched at his sides so hard that his knuckles were blanched.

"Hey, don't you want to see what he'll do?" Piers' tormentor asked the guard.

"Shin, I think we should just stop. . . ." The sentry sounded rather nervous.

"Huh!" Shin snorted and spat through the bars of the cell. The saliva plastered itself against Piers' bare thigh and oozed its way to the ground as Felix and the others stared, stunned.

It was the last thing Piers could take. He spun, his movements sharp and controlled. His eyes, an unusual dandelion yellow, were crackling with anger. "If my words will not cool your temper, then . . . ." He raised a muscular arm and pointed at a pool of water in which Shin was standing. 

Without warning, the puddle reached up and formed itself into a tall pillar of ice. Shin screamed in terror and slipped off, landing on his bottom. He scrambled to his feet and burst out of the prison, still crying out in fear. 

"Felix! Felix, look!" Kraden was nearly bouncing up and down with excitement. "That was Psynergy!"

"What, _really?_" Sheba asked sardonically.

"Yes, I do believe that my hypothesis is correct, and. . . ." the scholar seemed unaware of the tone of her voice.

"Master Kraden, she was only joking," Felix told him kindly. 

He looked back to where the sentry was backing away from Piers' cell. The spear he was pointing at the imprisoned man was trembling. 

"You monster!" the guard cried.

Suddenly, it was as if all the rage contained within Piers simply died. "I—I am no monster," he protested, voice forlorn. His eyelids dropped, eyes no longer containing the spark of anger. His hands dropped to his sides, fists uncurling. The tension that once had been holding his body rigid left him, leaving him drained of all emotion but sorrow. Head bowed, he was almost despair solidified.

Without another word, the sentry fled, almost tripping over the butt of his spear in his fright. Piers watched him go, and then, shoulders slumped, turned around and retreated to the back of the cell.

"Wow," Jenna whispered. "Poor Piers. Felix, maybe we should try to talk to him."

"You're right." Felix nodded. He walked up to the iron-barred door and hesitantly cleared his throat. "Um, excuse me?"

He received no answer.

He tried again. "Piers? That _is_ what you're called, right?"

Again, the blue-haired man refused to respond.

"Hey, Felix is talking to you!" Sheba informed him, annoyed. "Where I come from, it's polite to answer when people speak to you!"

"Why should I speak to you, when all you Madrans do is torment me for crimes I did not commit?" Piers' soft words floated to them, seemingly carried by a current of dull, miserable resentfulness. 

"We're not from Madra." Felix's heart ached for the man. "My name is Felix of Prox, and—"

"Prox?" Now Piers faced them, curious. "I have never heard of your town before. I'm sorry I was so rude, but for the last few weeks. . . ." He shrugged, letting his sentence trail off. 

"Don't worry, we understand." Jenna smiled at him. "I'm Jenna, Felix's sister."

Sheba and Kraden also introduced themselves. Then, not being able to contain his natural inquisitiveness any longer, Kraden eagerly queried, "What you used . . . that was Psynergy, was it not?"

Piers stared at them. "How do you know of Psynergy? You are not of my people!"

"There are Adepts scattered throughout the world, and we are among them," Felix began, trying to forestall a gigantic lecture from Kraden. The researcher of Alchemy meant well, but he had a penchant for teaching at inconvenient moments. "Well, excluding Kraden, that is." 

"Yes, documentation has shown that Adepts have settled in various regions around the world, including—ouch!" Kraden broke off his speech to give Jenna a resentful look. "Jenna, why did you elbow me?"

The Mars Adept was the very image of innocence. "Whoops. My arm must've slipped." 

Piers shook his head, apparently having difficulty absorbing the news—and understanding the strangeness of his visitors. "But . . . oh, it doesn't matter. Until I am freed from this prison, nothing does." The last sentence was uttered in a half-whisper, as if it was intended for his own hearing alone.

But he did not speak softly enough. Jenna moved forward and wrapped her hands around the bars of the cell. "Piers, we want to help. Is there anything we can do, anything at all . . . ?"

Piers stiffened somewhat and gave the group a fierce glare. "I can solve my own problems, thank you very much. I do not need perfect strangers to meddle in my affairs." 

"And you _obviously_ have the situation perfectly under control," Jenna snapped, staring pointedly around the jail, waving a hand in the air. 

"Jenna, have patience," Felix murmured too softly for Piers to catch. "He's in a terrible situation, and it's hurting him." Louder, he inquired, "Piers, we don't want to see you this miserable. Is there anything we can do, anything at all?"

"Well . . . the elder of this village was sympathetic to my problems." Piers gave the information almost reluctantly. "When he came to visit me, he told me of how he spoke against my imprisonment, though not a single person would listen."

"So where is this elder?" Sheba demanded.

"He left for Alhafra, in search of the true pirates. Only by capturing them did he feel he could clear my name."

"Well, I don't see why we can't just break this place to bits with our Psynergy and let Piers go," Jenna remarked impatiently. "I mean, it's obvious to anyone with all their mental capacities" ––here she coughed significantly–– "that Piers is innocent. So why not save ourselves a journey?"

"No! I would be hunted, a wanted man," Piers protested. "My escape would only be further proof of my guilt, in the minds of the Madrans. I must stay here until the elder returns . . . even though I have no time to wait."

"What do you mean by that?" Sheba inquired, curious.

Piers shook his head, eyes turned to the floor. "It is nothing. . . ."

Felix bit his lower lip, disturbed by the hopelessness in the captive man's voice. "Piers, even though you don't want our help, it looks like you need it. I promise you that we'll do our best to help you."

"Thank you." From his posture and tone, it was simple to tell that Piers didn't place much faith in them. "You had better go, now. You've been speaking with me for too long . . . the guards will become suspicious. The Madrans may believe that, by being sympathetic to my cause, you may try something—rash." 

"That makes no sense." Sheba shook her blond head in disgust.

"I know . . . but it's the truth, isn't it?" His voice was sad.

Silently, thoughtfully, the group filed out of the prison, in a subdued mood. Without saying anything, they walked the short distance to the inn.

They say that justice should be available for all. But it's only an ideal. If justice were served, Menardi and Saturos would be alive today, Felix thought, suddenly bitter. Foolish assumptions, based on appearances. Maybe Piers' problems aren't so different from my foster parents', after all. . . . 

~  * * * ~

Vyctori: *pacing* I just CAN'T have Alex as a muse! I can't! I bet the IHAC are revoking my membership even as I speak!

Menardi: Settle down, Vyctori.

Vyctori: Settle down? SETTLE DOWN?! The most loathsome thing ever to try to steal the power of Alchemy is living in MY HOUSE!

Menardi: That's bound to make the neighbours talk.

Vyctori: Oh no! You don't think . . . they'll think. . . . 0_o;;; *spazzes out*

Menardi: Vycki, calm down. If anyone says anything, I'll just decapitate them, okay? 

Vyctori: *tries to calm down* But how can we get rid of him? I don't think I could bear to have Alex as a muse!

Menardi + Vyctori: *think very hard*

Menardi: Hey, I know!

Vyctori: *gets out of trench she has worn in the floor from pacing and grabs Menardi by both shoulders* QUICK! TELL ME!

Menardi: It's simple. Remember how much trouble Shadow had with fangirls when Siegfried arrived?

Vyctori: Yeah, she had to take her bazookas to them. I remember that. But I don't see how it's going to help. . . .

Menardi: Well, you know that Alex has a load of fangirls, right? 

Vyctori: And?

Menardi: So we take out an advertisement in the paper telling them he's here and they'll come and take him off our hands!

Vyctori: Menardi, that's a wonderful idea! *hugs Menardi* I'll go phone _The Times_ right now and ask them to place an ad!

The next day. . . .

Alex: *purchases copy of _The_ _Times_ and takes it home* *begins to read and sees a certain advertisement* Huh? "Fangirls, do you wish to know the _exact location_ of Alex of Imil? Look no further! He is here and is up for grabs for the lucky girl who gets here first! Just come to the following address . . . ." 0_o;; Vyctori, Menardi, would either of you know anything, perchance, about this certain advertisement?

Vyctori: *innocent look* What? *reads ad* I don't know what you're talking about, Alex.

Menardi: *also reads* Me either. Anyway, don't forget to review this, everyone, or we'll send the hoards of fangirls we're expecting to your house. A fate worse than death!

Vyctori: No kidding!

*doorbell rings*

Vyctori: *listening to screeches of fangirls outside* ^_^ Alex, go get that, will you?

Alex: 0_o;;;


	3. Nightmares?

A/N: Well, here I am at long last! ::smiles:: I know it's been a while, but hopefully this update will make it worthwhile . . . hopefully. ::sweatdrop::

Something to note: For those of you who haven't checked my bio recently, I've removed the previous fic to this, _Blaze_, and am probably going to rewrite it. It's been a long time since I wrote it and my writing style's evolved considerably, so I want to make sure my signature fic in this section reflects that. Thing is, I probably won't get around to it for a few months, since I have many, _many_ projects on the go, so don't hold your breath waiting for it to come back (you'll only pass out).

Another thing I wanna mention is that there aren't going to be any more muse skits, just because I don't want to see this removed. I'm funny like that. ::wink:: However, I'm in the middle of making myself a sort of author page (more of a dumping ground/advertisement for my published fics/OFURNK website/whatever I feel like putting, actually), so I may publish the muse skits I created in advance if I feel like it. Eventually. Maybe.

Anyway, to the reviews!

whitetiger777: You're that dedicated about checking for updates? Wow. Maybe I should update more often, then . . . ! Anyway, the kid's been quiet, just like his father (::grins::), and the Dimetapp worked, so he's ready to go back home. And Menardi says thank you for . . . something-or-other. Something tells me I don't wanna know. . . .

The Faction's Lord: Howdy, stranger! Thanks for the very good review! ::grins::

Semaj Fallen: Don't worry. Karst's definitely going to get some screen time . . . soon. Her being my favourite character in both _Golden Sun_ games, how could she not? ::smiles::

moonjump05: That's a good idea for writing; actually, I use it myself on occasion. Still doesn't help me much in the description department, though. . . . Anyway, thanks for the advice, and I'll do my best to follow it! (Show, not tell!)

DarkSora: That was . . . random. Anyway, I dunno how "misunderstood" Alex is, but if it's any consolation, he's not my least favourite videogame character by a long shot. ::coughsoniacough::

Lunaris Celestius: Hey, long time no see! Glad to see you're still around! ::smiles::

Rallalon: . . . That's an excellent idea! You don't mind if I use it, do you? Oh, and things will get fluffy soon—it's just the first quarter of the fic has to be sad, since Felix _was_ pretty close to Saturos and Menardi. I can't write angst for long—that's Empress Dotdotdot's department!

Yoshimi Takahashi: I don't dislike Madrans in general . . . just a few in particular. ::sweatdrops:: And I kinda forgot about mentioning you since you read _everything_ I write—even the really crappy stuff I never posted on and never will. ::sweatdrops again::

Flaming Tigress Mage: My favourite _Fire Emblem_ characters? Hoo boy. Here's the short list: Eliwood, Kent, Uther, Sain, Leila, Matthew, Vaida, Hector, Isadora, Lucius, Nils, Nino, and Roland. ::grins:: Basically, the only characters I _don't_ like are Sonia and Nergal.

As for the fangirls, I'm not quite sure what would happen. Probably they'd go where Alex went (voluntarily or not, in his case) . . . !

Cloud-123: Thank you! ::smiles::

AuroraIce: Thanks for the review! Glad to see you're not an Alex fangirl. . . . In fact, wanna join the I Hate Alex Club? Super Sheba and Yugi the Other White Meat run it, and obviously I'm a proud member! Join today! ::puts on IHAC button:: Glad you liked Blaze!

O=O=O=O=O=O=O=O=O=O=O=O=O=O=O=O

WOW! Eleven reviews! Amazing! ::is obviously very, _very_ happy:: Thanks so much, everyone!

All right, and now for today's fic plug. I would like to recommend to you . . . "Stone Tablet," by Yoshimi Takahashi. Another unfairly ignored fic, it explores Weyard through the eyes of some of the best and most realistic OCs I've ever seen . . . hundreds of years previous to _Golden_ _Sun_, during the Golden Age of Alchemy. A masterpiece in every sense of the world (and no, I'm not saying all this because he's my cousin ::sweatdrop::).

Now enjoy my chapter—I command ye! ::grins::

=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

"Please, you have to listen to me!" Felix half-pleaded, half-ordered the stone-faced man left in charge of Madra's military, standing before his desk. "Piers is _innocent!_"

How many times have I said this in the last ten minutes? Felix wondered

"You've locked him up because of purely circumstantial events," Kraden said, pushing up his round spectacles. They had a tendency to slip off his nose whenever he grew excited.

"It is obvious that the imprisoned Champan was part of the raid several weeks ago. " The soldier was stubborn. "You outsiders should keep your noses out of our business. Like I have said before, the incarceration and punishment of the prisoner is our matter to deal with as we choose."

"Look, you!" Jenna thrust her index finger in the man's face in accusation. "We've tried to be reasonable with you, but now I'm going to get serious. If you don't release Piers—Felix, stop stepping on my foot—we're going to—mmph!"

Felix had covered her mouth with her hand. "Don't threaten him; he'll only dig in his heels even more," he murmured to her. Jenna bit his hand. "_Ouch!_"

He refused to let go, however, and continued his debate, trying not to wince at the pain. "You have no way of knowing that Piers wasn't simply an innocent sailor who happened to run aground at a bad time. For all we know, he could have been caught in that huge tidal wave."

"Maybe," the man said. "Or just maybe he was in league with the Champans. They're sailors, he's a sailor. What are the chances of two different sailing groups being in the same area simultaneously, anyway?"

"Pretty good, I'd say," Sheba snapped. "Don't you Madrans have any idea of justice _at all?_"

"Mmph!" Jenna agreed, still muzzled by her brother.

"I have had _enough_." The man slammed both of his palms down onto his wooden desk with a tremendous thump, causing a few papers to fly madly through the air. "Piers is guilty. The only way I would be convinced that he could possibly be innocent were if the pirate Briggs were to vouch _personally_ that he is not, in fact, a Champan. And that is simply not going to happen. I bid you good day."

It was obvious that they were wasting their time. Once again without words, the group filed out of the guard headquarters and returned to the inn for their evening meal.

During supper, Felix and his friends spoke of normal things, such as the new light sword that Jenna had seen in the shop and whether or not they could afford it. However, as they finished, their conversation turned towards the mysterious Piers and his difficult situation.

"What are we going to do about him?" Sheba asked; she didn't need to say who "he" was. "We can't just leave him there."

"Yes, but what _can_ we do, short of blowing the jail to bits with our Psynergy?" Felix argued. "I want to help him, too, but damaging public property? Besides, I can't see that going down too well with the Madrans. We're already regarded suspiciously enough for siding with Piers."

"I don't see what's wrong with that plan," Jenna said. "I think it would solve things quite nicely."

"You would." Felix sighed.

"Well . . . " Kraden began, "that soldier _did_ say that he would consider Piers' name cleared if Briggs admitted that Piers wasn't one of his pirates. Why don't we find Briggs and get him to confess?"

"Are you kidding?" Jenna snorted. "Do you have any idea how many places Briggs could be by now? It'd be _impossible_ to find him!"

"It might not be as hard as you think," Felix disagreed, thinking. "Even though Briggs could be anywhere, my guess is he's most likely at a port. If the Champans are pirates, they probably live close to the sea. And since news has gone around about the attack, then possibly all the port towns are being watched. Excuse me," ––Felix broke off his monologue and addressed the innkeeper, who was passing by their table–– "but do you know where the nearest port is?"

"That would be Alhafra, sir," the man said. "It's a good two weeks' journey from here, but there are none closer. Are you thinking about heading that way?"

"Possibly," Felix answered. "Is the road good?"

"Not good, sir. Not good at all. Ever since the attack, things have been nasty." His voice dropped to a low murmur. Automatically, Felix leaned closer. "There have been tales of monsters roaming around. I've even heard that Briggs himself has been spotted near Alhafra."

Felix gave Jenna a look; his sister returned it with an eyeroll-and-shrug combination.

Unaware, the innkeeper continued. "So I wouldn't recommend visiting there, young sir. Try staying in Madra instead—it's all anyone would want."

"Thank you very much," Felix told the man. He dropped several coins into the manager's hand as a reward.

"Any time, sir, any time." The man touched his forehead—he had no cap to raise and thus had to settle for a similar respectful gesture—and scurried off to attend to other customers' demands.

"Ha." Sheba smirked at Jenna once the man was out of earshot.

"Oh, shut up." Jenna scowled at the Jupiter Adept. She hated when she was wrong. Sometimes, she'd try to shift the blame to someone else, though currently, she couldn't see a way to do so.

"So, I suppose we might as well make our way to Alhafra, then," Felix interrupted, foreseeing an argument. It was a talent he wished he didn't need to use _quite_ so often. "First thing tomorrow morning?"

"Aw, Felix, but I was looking forward to sleeping in a real bed for the next few days," Jenna complained.

"If that's the case, then you had better start singing," Sheba told her friend, grinning away.

Jenna sighed. "Never mind. . . ."

O=O=O=O=O=O=O=O

The group set off fairly early the next morning. The sun warmed them, occasionally too much. There wasn't the usual tang to the air that Felix associated with early fall. Here, it still felt like high summer. The leaves in the forest were still as brilliant green as ever, which was a bit of a disappointment. Autumn was one of Felix's favourite seasons. The world seemed to be just a little bit fresher, as if it woke up just a little bit before settling into its winter sleep.

However, unlike her brother, Jenna was not interested in the natural beauty that surrounded her. After her taste of civilization in Madra, she was _not_ pleased to be moving on to even more untamed wilderness. She still clung to her idea of a midnight breakout for Piers, citing that it would take much less time. And she held onto it for quite some time.

And, after they had tracked down Briggs, freed Piers, and then followed him to Kibombo, she still was not happy. Especially since she didn't consider the small town of Kibombo to be properly developed. It still reminded her uncomfortably of the not-so-great outdoors.

Looking around their campsite just outside of Naribwe on their return journey, she sighed heavily and stared into the campfire, watching their meal cook slowly.

Felix restrained the urge to roll his eyes. "Look, Jenna, I'm really sorry we've had to rush about so much in the last few weeks, but I promise we'll stay extra long in Madra to make up, okay?"

Jenna tried to smile. "Thanks, Felix. I know I've been such a child lately, but I've _really_ had enough of trooping all over Weyard for months on end. I just want to go home."

Felix's eyes dropped to the scuffed, dusty tops of his boots. Even were he to return to Vale, there was no guarantee that its citizens wouldn't run him out of town. And in Prox, his second home, as the bearer of bad news, his welcome wouldn't be that much better if he returned with the news of the deaths of Saturos and Menardi. He knew they'd accept him once more, but sadly, remembering his travelling companions and the optimism with which they had set out.

The feeling of a small hand being placed on his shoulder caused him to look up. Standing next to him was Sheba; she was wearing a gentle smile. Some nights, when neither of them could sleep, Sheba had asked him to talk about his childhood, as well as some of the more recent events. She had only a small idea of how he felt, but it was enough.

Felix gave her a slight smile in return and turned to look at Piers to attempt to explain. However, at the inward-looking, sorrowful look on the man's face, any words Felix was about to use melted off his tongue. It seemed that he was not the only one to have a troubling homecoming in store.

He wondered if he should ask Piers about what was upsetting him but decided against it. Piers had already shown a desire to be independent, as well as more than a little secretive. With time, and when he grew used to the workings of the group, perhaps he would open up a little more.

Of course, it could just be the usual glum feelings teenagers tended to get from time to time. Jenna and Felix had debated it one morning when Piers and Sheba were off finding firewood—they couldn't quite decide whether their new friend was a few years younger than Felix or perhaps a little bit older. Regardless, if it _did_ turn out that Piers' problems were no more than something along the lines of overprotective parents, then perhaps the trip would be a growing experience for him.

Shaking off the sadness that had once again drawn near at the thought of parents, Felix decided, "We probably should be heading to bed. We need an early start if we're going to get back to Madra quickly."

"As you know, my ship ran aground just outside of that town," Piers said, dropping his pensiveness quickly. "We can use that for travel later on; it's much, _much_ faster than going by foot and we can go anywhere we like in the Eastern Sea." A touch of pride accompanied the sentence.

"Well, then, let's get to bed!" Jenna jerked her blanket from her pack and whipped it out. The magic word of _Madra_ seemed to have cheered her up quite a bit.

Chuckling at her enthusiasm, Sheba and Felix also retrieved their bedding. Piers rose to his feet and stretched, preparing for his first stint on night watch.

O=O=O=O=O=O=O=O

Later that night, Felix was just finishing his turn on watch—soon it would be Jenna's turn. He tilted his head upward and breathed in the still night air. The stars were glittering in the sky, and there were a few wisps of cloud on the horizon. Everything was peaceful and still . . . except for the sound of soft sobbing.

"What the . . . ?" Felix murmured, frowning.

He quickly followed the sound to its source: Sheba. She was sitting up amidst her blankets, hands pressed to her face and shoulders shaking.

Felix instantly dropped to a crouch. "Sheba, what's wrong?"

"Oh, Felix, I had such a . . . terrible nightmare." She sobbed. "I dreamt you all were killed, and there was so much blood, and. . . ." She couldn't continue.

Very carefully, Felix put an arm around her shoulders as he sat down next to her. "But that's all it was—a nightmare. It's all right, now. We're all here."

To his surprise, Sheba clung to him and pressed her face into his tunic, seemingly uncomforted. Awkwardly, Felix let his second arm encircle her slim body and held her close.

It must have been a truly horrible dream to upset her this much, he thought, one hand unconsciously stroking down her back in a soothing manner. Poor Sheba. It's not like her to need comforting like this.

To be honest, he was rather surprised at the way she seemed to need him to hold her. Up until this point, there hadn't been very much physical contact in their relationship beyond taps on the shoulder to get the attention of the other, maybe a hand to steady her when crossing a particularly narrow ledge, that sort of thing. It was unusual, but . . . not unpleasant. Almost the opposite, in fact.

Deciding to examine the last thought later, when he had more time to think, Felix turned his attention back to comforting Sheba.

O=O=O=O=O=O=O=O=O

Sheba continued to sob as she leaned into Felix's strong, warm body. Of course, there had been no nightmare. Not at all. . . .

I can't believe I'm taking advantage of him like this, Sheba thought for what seemed the twentieth time as she turned her head so one cheek was laid against his chest. I shouldn't, but . . . I need to be close to him. I can't stand trying to stay apart from him. I can't stand not being able to touch him, to embrace him, to kiss—

She firmly shut her mind on that thought. It wouldn't work, and that's that, she told herself firmly. I'm too young for him—for anyone. I'm only fourteen, after all. Besides, he probably has half the women in _both_ of his homes after him as it is.

Sheba allowed her shoulder-shaking to slow, though this time the tears that leaked from her eyes had a different reason for existence. When she had first met Felix, being forced through the desert by Babi's soldiers, Felix had seemed like her knight in shining armour. Though she had been introduced to the others in the group, she still had kept her eyes on Felix. When her tired legs had given out and he had uncomplainingly carried her the rest of the way . . . that, she had decided, was when her infatuation began. He had almost been the big brother she had never had, but now. . . .

However, when infatuation changed to love . . . she could not tell. It was such a slow process that she had been caught unawares. But now it was undeniable.

Sheba let her breathing even out. If she kept crying too long, Felix might become suspicious. She drooped slightly in his arms.

"Sheba?" Felix's soft voice murmured in her ear.

She didn't respond, pretending—ever pretending, she thought in a brief, sharp moment of despair—that she had fallen asleep.

Gently, almost tenderly, Felix laid her back on the ground and pulled the covers over her head. She felt a callus-roughened hand brush her hair lightly aside before she heard him move from her side.

Keeping her eyes closed, Sheba savoured the feeling of being held in his arms, though it was tainted somewhat with a feeling of guilt for making Felix worry over her. Eventually, her breathing slowed, and this time not artificially. She slept lightly until Jenna awakened her for the last watch of the night.


End file.
